Chapter 23: Lesson learned! Angry Old-Men are a menace for society. Part 1
[Part 1:]
Just as I finished with them all, I decided to leave the Great Hall. Why waste my time staying with old people who smell like soap?
Let's be serious here, what's the point of doing so, if one doesn't get paid for it?
To be honest, these elderly folks are to blame for the screwed reality I'm faced with. They didn't help Grindelwald or Gaydore; instead, they opted to stay back and watch them burn everything to the ground while having their little Lover's quarrel.
Grindelwald went on to help the Nazis, which in some insane way makes sense, the dude wanted a new order, and the Nazis wanted a new order so it is smart to align himself with them.
But the Nazis took an even crazier path and decided to kill people based on their religion or ethnicity, or whatever the fuck it was that pissed them off so hard.
To this day, I still don't understand what a Jew really is. Is it a religion, an ethnicity, Zionism, or something one uses as an excuse to get away with killing a bunch of people and taking what one wants? But that's a whole other can of worms I'm unwilling to open until I'm strong enough.
Anyway, just as I'm about to get away from this impromptu home for elderly people and from the Marauders, I get held up by my Gramps.
'We need to talk,' he says with a fiery gaze. Well, if he were some hot milf or gilf, I'd even feel somewhat complimented by being gazed upon with such intensity. But the dude is a man and old, like way past his expiration date old, so it's a turn-off for me.
But I'm sure there are women and girls with daddy issues who'd dig the old man if he were to throw them such an intense gaze."
*Sigh*
"Sure. Let's go somewhere where we can talk in peace and privately," I reply, noticing his excitement.
This time, I won't get away with shrugging him off, and I don't intend to.
Minutes later, we're inside one of the more desolate corners of the castle, a place I've never been before.
"What is this room?" I ask my Gramps.
"Oh, so you weren't told?!" he asks.
"About what?" I question.
"See, Hogwarts is the oldest school in the world and it has the largest library in Europe. So some of the older and wealthier families bought and rented rooms inside the school," he explains, though not very clearly.
"Why?" I ask.
"Because some of their children or adults pursue magic and like, or rather need to access the necessary books to further 'Study'. But because the books can't be taken outside of Hogwarts, one has to always come, go to the library, and hope that the book is available. That is, unless you have a room inside Hogwarts. In that case, you can rent a book and leave it inside your room," he explains.
"Well, seems like there's more to Hogwarts than just being a school for children and teenagers," I remark.
"So, you have a room in Hogwarts?!" I ask him.
"It's not mine, but the Prince family has one! Also, it's one of our most expensive possessions! Many newer families would pay a fortune to be able to own such a room, but only those lineages who were lucky and old enough were able to secure such a room," he explains.
'Interesting,' I think.
The room is lavish, to say the least, and it has all the necessary accommodations that a pureblood would need, with all the wards in place.
"So, what is it you want to know?!" I ask him as I let myself fall onto the couch.
He looks at me for a second before my grandma walks out of his shadow and smiles at me.
"Wow?! So you're always inside his shadow?!" I ask, shocked. This is the first time I've ever seen where, or rather how she comes and goes.
"Hello to you as well, Sev, and yes, I do," she says with a smirk.
"Oh, sorry. Hello, Grandma," I say hurriedly.
"So?!" she asks.
"So?!" I ask back.
"Don't play dumb with me, Severus Ulysses Prince!" she says.
"I'm not, but I need to know what you want to know," I explain.
"What is the Cloak?" Gramps asks me.
"It's a Cloak of Invisibility," I reply.
"Why exchange the boy for such a Cloak?! I know they're expensive, but we could have bought a dozen or so of them easily before your business started to pick up, and now we can buy a hundred or so easily," he says smugly.
'Idiot! That's my money, and I'm sure I can't buy one of the Hollows with just money! Well, technically I could if I were to throw enough money to sabotage the Potters, but even then they wouldn't easily part with the cloak,' I conclude.
"Nah, this one is special!" I say.
"What's so special about this cloak?!" he asks.
"That is for me to know and for you to find out!" I reply, and I can see his face turning red.
"Severus! DO NOT TAUNT YOUR GRANDFATHER!!!" my grandma says with authority.
Damn! Women are scary beings. Even if I know I can kill them both off, I cannot in good conscience say no to her.
"I cannot say," I say exasperatedly.
"Why?! Is it dangerous?" she asks.
'Well, it's possible that dangerous is an understatement. But that depends on whether the brothers really met a god, and going by how this world is set up, that's one very viable fact,' I think.
"Technically, it is not. But there's a possibility that it may as well destroy all life on the planet if it falls into the wrong hands and gets mishandled," I say.
"And you think your hands are not the wrong kind of hands?!" Gramps asks, unnerved at the knowledge that I am getting my hands on something that may well end all life.
"Well, I think my hands are the only ones capable enough to hold onto such a dangerous item!" I throw back.
"So you won't explain what the cloak really is?!" Grandma asks me.
"No! No, I won't. The more you know, the more in danger you are," I reply stoically.
"Why did you intervene in our duel?!" Gramps asks angrily.
"Because I had to," I reply.
"Why?" my grandmother asks me.
*Sigh*
"It's complicated. But I'll try to explain it because I like you, Grandma," I say, trying to play the doting grandson card, and it works because I am a charming son of a bitch!
"Oh, you cute devil you!" she says happily.
"Reason one: I cannot have you lose to the old goat! And reason two: I needed Dumbledore out of the picture to have my talk with Lord Potter," I tell them, some half-truth, and dodge pointing out about the old man's wand.
If they get to know that I have the old bastard's wand and have taken a cloak of invisibility from the Potters, I am sure some of these old people will get the clues and find out what I am hunting for.
"I feel like you're lying," Gramps says, eyeing me.
"Seriously?! Coming from the man who threw his grandson into a ritual that may have cost him his life?!" I throw back.
"Touché, Reginald," Grandma says, amused.
"Darling, you know why I had to do that!" he tries to defend himself.
"I was against it, and you went ahead and did it anyway," she says angrily.
*Sigh*
"I'm not sorry!" he says, huffing and summoning himself some wine from somewhere further inside the room.
"You do know that we have a family feud on our hands now, right?!" My grandma asks me.
"I know, but that won't be a problem," I reply.
"Why not? A family feud is a big thing, you know?!" she says, shocked.
"Have you guys not been reading the Daily Prophet?!" I question them both.
"Not really," Gramps says.
"Whenever we have time on our hands, we're kinda busy," my grandma says with a blush.
'Fucking dirty old people!' I think, disgusted.
"There's a war on the horizon," I say.
"What?" they both ask, shocked.
"I'm not sure about the who or why, but I know that in less than four years, we'll have a full-blown civil war on our hands at the current pace," I say to them.
"Explain your analysis," Gramps demands.
"Attacks on Muggles are on the rise! People from the Ministry are disappearing left and right, and coalitions are being formed at an unprecedented pace. I think whoever is plotting behind the scenes has been at it for more than a decade," I explain my theory.
Voldemort is not an idiot; in fact, he is far from being an idiot. The man is a genius, well, not one like myself. But nonetheless he is dangerous.
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